Disclaimer: Some lines are from the movie. And I'm pretty sure you guys have all seen it.

Chapter Subjects: Helen and Paris

Language Note/Summary: Ilium is another word for Troy. Greek contingent means Greek force. The quote is a French proverb (Yeah, I'm taking French I). I am making Helen a more sympathy-worthy figure, but Paris is still a sissy. Hector is the awesome older brother and husband, Briseis is an understanding figure to Helen, and Andromache is a loving and devoted wife who stands around with Astyanax and looks pretty. In this story, Briseis is a becomes a good friend of Helen.

Announcements: Please REVIEW!!! And tell me what you think about a SEQUEL!!!

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All your life you spoke of fate. Of destiny.
All your life you spoke of things that could not be changed.
All your life you spoke of things decided.
You spoke of beginnings.
Of seeds growing,
of wind blowing.

You spoke of triumph. Of glory. Of gain.
You spoke of suffering. Of sacrifice. Of loss.
You spoke of endings.
Of leaves falling,
of Death calling.

All things must pass away,
all life is doomed to fade.
But now I ask,
what is there in this world which is more powerful than fate?
What is there in this world for which men will die?

Some choose a path less traveled.
Helen of Sparta is one:
she ignored destiny.
She defied fate.
She chose love.

As you speak of fate, I speak of love.
Love. I speak of love.
Of passion. Of loyalty.

I speak of emotion. Of hearts swelling.
I speak of the future.
Of sorrow leaving,
of dreams into us weaving.

I speak of hope.
Of souls rising,
of love undying.
Fate, you say?
Fate has failed.

Six hearts, two nations.
Thousands will never return to home.
Heroes will rise, heroes will fall.
And for love, a nation will burn to the ground.

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A Storm Approaching

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"One often finds his destiny in the road which he takes to avoid it."- French Proverb

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"Love is like the sands of time. Forever shifting, forever changing, forever shaping the surface of this earth. I've fought many wars in my time. Some I've fought for land, some for power, some for glory. I suppose fighting for love makes more sense than all the rest."

As Paris stood on the walls of Troy looking across the dry plain at the Greek campfires, and thought about the words of his wise father, king Priam.

Troy, Ilium, is beautiful, but most beautiful at night. The walls, more than a hundred feet high, are lit with torches and braziers, casting long shadows over the perfectly paved roads. He sighed deeply, and turned around and was met by his beloved city.

Troy is a city with tall towers, wide windows, now glowing with warm light, terraces and balconies. He could still see remnants of the earlier celebrations. The perfectly and carefully paved broad streets had been full of people, decked out in their best clothing, gold jewelry flashing in the sunlight.

A city blessed and graced by they Gods.

Helen's face had been beaming to be met by his people and in an instant all her fears of being shunned and refused by the Trojans had been erased. Yes, he knew that now many hated Helen, and blamed her for bringing about this war; yes, he knew that some wanted her returned to Menelaus in the first place; his own brother had been one of them.

But what could they do now? When the war-horns of Troy had sounded, he had rushed out onto the balcony to see the sight which they had all been expecting for years. A thousand ships, he had thought. A thousand ships to destroy our fair city.

And so Hector, his honourable brother, had pulled on his battle-gear, took up his spear and shield, rushed out, and had ridden with the Appalachian Guard to meet the Greeks. Almost all had perished. Many more would.

This night, he, Paris, Prince of Troy, had told his father that he would challenge Menelaus to a duel, and prevent further bloodshed.

"It will end everything."

He knew that he was making the right choice. He knew that he would probably die while all of Troy watched. Helen would probably be returned to Menelaus.

Forgive me Helen. But I do not want to be selfish anymore; Hector has always put Troy before himself. Now, it is my turn to take responsibility. He had not yet told Hector of his decision, or Helen. But he would. Just not yet.

"I began this war. I shall end it," he spoke to the darkness.

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"They're coming for me. I can feel it. The wind brings them closer. A storm is approaching."

And now, they were here. Hector, bravest of all Trojans, had gone to meet them. She, Helen of Troy, had stood on the walls with Andromache and Astyanax.

The gold necklace and soft green woolen robe, embroidered in silver, felt heavy and muffling. She wished she could sprout wings, fly to some distant shore, and walk into the sea and drown. But she was not a bird and knew of no distant shore.

When she had left Sparta with Paris, she had not thought about the war which would result. She did not think that Achilles of the Myrmidons would be among the many heroes who would lead the Greek contingent.

She had not thought of the massacre at, and the desecration of, Apollo's Temple. She had not thought of the funeral pyres burning, the dead men being loading into carts, the weeping wives. She had not thought of any of this. She had not wanted any of this. All she wanted was to be happy and live out the rest of her long life with Paris.

Then, an even heavier blow; Hector confirmed that, yes, Briseis had been at the Temple of Apollo during the beginning of the invasion.

"The Greeks have her," was the first thing he had said to Andromache, breathlessly. Then the daughter of Eetion had hurriedly handed Astyanax to a nurse, sent a servant for water for a bath and some wine, and rushed to find Priam.

Paris thought that she had no worries about being accepted after her first day in Troy, but she still felt like an outsider around the Trojans. But she had not told him. What use would that be? It would only make him feel worse.

She had found comfort and understanding in Briseis. Although Briseis had not been a large part in the welcoming ceremony, she had graciously introduced Helen to the city with open arms, and had no hard feeling towards her. She had immediately requested that Helen speak to her in private, and told her that women would hate her, but that there would always be love here in Troy. And she also erased any fears of being given back to the Greeks.

"You are one of us now. You are a daughter of Troy, and Hector would never give you to the Greeks. You are safe here."

But now you are in danger, sister. What are they doing to you now?

She walked out onto the balcony, and felt the cool night breeze pass through her hair and brush her face. It felt good. She was met by a field of stars, like white, glowing ambers blown across the sky by winds' breath. A rare moment of calm. A gentle lull in the midst of the storm.

Behind her, the door creaked open, and she turned around to see Paris. There was something in his eyes that made her worry.

"What is it?" she asked softly. Oh, Zeus, Father in the Sky, do not let anything have happened to Briseis.

"I… have something I need to tell you," he said hesitantly. "Tomorrow, I will…"

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